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long time removing my jeans and my T-shirt, folding them perfectly and putting them "away"
onto their respective piles on
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the floor. Then I slipped out of my bra and slid the garment bag off the hanger, removing the
pins that, since there were no straps, were holding the dress in place. I'd barely had time to step
into it and reach around to zip the bottom half of the zipper before the door to the basement flew
open.
"We're coming down, Lucy," yelled Amy.
"Yeah, ready or not, here we come," yelled Emma. And in a second, they were standing next to
me. My dad and Mara followed more slowly, Mara coming all the way into the basement, my
dad sitting on the bottom step.
"Ooooh," said Emma.
"Mmmmm," said Amy.
"It's sooo pretty," said Emma. "I love it," said Amy.
They circled around me, evaluating the dress from different angles.
"It's really beautiful, Lucy," said my dad.
Mara walked over to me and put her hand on my back. "May I?"
"Sure," I said, letting go of the fabric so she could zip the zipper. For a second it felt like it was going to be too tight, but she coaxed it up until it closed all the way.
"It's lovely," she said, stepping back and surveying me.
"What shoes are you wearing?" asked Emma. "Yeah, what shoes?" asked Amy.
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"Those." I pointed at my bag. The toe of one of my black pumps was sticking out the top.
"What?" shrieked Amy. "Are you crazy?" This from Emma. "Girls!" said my dad sharply.
"Sorry," said Emma. "Yeah, sorry," said Amy.
"I don't have anything else," I explained. "Sorry."
Emma started jumping up and down, practically bursting with frustration. "You have to wear
strappy shoes," she said.
"You have to wear gold strappy shoes," said Amy, jumping up and down with her.
Emma stopped jumping and made a face of disgust at Amy. "She's not wearing gold shoes," she
said. "Do you live in a trailer or something? Silver. She has to wear silver sandals."
Before Amy could respond, I stepped in. "Well, guess what, ladies, I hate to break it to you, but
she's not wearing gold or silver. It's black pumps or barefoot." I found myself looking over at my dad for confirmation of my decision.
He shrugged. "Those shoes look nice to me." If my dad hadn't once paired a plaid sports jacket
with striped pants, his assessment of my footwear would have been much more comforting.
And then suddenly, out of nowhere, just as I was wondering if maybe going barefoot wasn't the
solution
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to my whole problem, Mara said, "Did you want silver shoes to wear?"
"Yes!" Emma and Amy shouted.
I shrugged. "Why, do you have a magic wand?"
"Not exactly," she said. "But I do have a pair of silver shoes in my closet."
By the time we arrived at Madison's, her driveway was filled with cars, and cars lined the street
in front of the house. I tried just saying good-bye to my dad, Mara, Emma, and Amy, but once
Emma and Amy figured out that other people's families were staying for cocktails, they refused
to leave.
The party was being held in the backyard. I saw Co
Dave. He looked really handsome in his tuxedo, so much so that I couldn't believe my mental
picture of prom had produced Sam instead of him. When he saw me, he gestured that I was to
stay where I was and then went into the house. A minute later he came over to where I was
standing.
"Yo, baby!" he said, taking in my dress and hair. "You're looking mighty fine." He slid a corsage of white gardenias over my wrist. "Here you go, Red," he said. The flowers smelled rich and
thick, and I put them up to my nose and inhaled deeply.
"Thanks," I said.
I'd pla
was too
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Town and Country, so I had on a long necklace of crystal beads that wrapped tightly around my
neck like a choker, then fell halfway down my back.
"Look," Amy had said when I was finally outfitted to her satisfaction, "something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue."
"That's a wedding, you freak," said Emma. "Not a prom."
Amy shrugged. "Whatev."
Emma and Amy had worked on my hair, helping me put it up in a high, complicated bun. They
wanted me to look just like a photo they'd seen in TeenVogue of the Princess of Liechtenstein
(though it may have been Romania--they were vague on the geographical details). Whether or
not I resembled European royalty, I must have looked pretty good because Co
at me and smiling. He was winking and smiling at Madison and Jessica, too, telling them how
hot they looked and how lucky Matt and Dave were.
"Hi, kids!" Kathryn shouted, waving to everyone on the lawn from the deck. I don't know if she'd been drinking upstairs at Jessica's, but she was more than a little unsteady on her extremely high
heels. And while the rest of us were wearing long dresses, Kathryn's dress ("dress") was short.
Very short. It was so short that, when she stopped waving and started giggling, my first thought
was she was embarrassed because she'd come down without her skirt on.
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Co
gave her the same smile he'd given me, Jessica, and Madison. When he told her how hot she
looked, Kathryn laughed.
"Stop," she said. "I'm blushing." Then she gave him a very unsisterly hug, and I wondered if Co
was the one with the date.
The limos began to arrive at seven.
"Come on, guys," yelled Jessica. "Let's go."
Madison started maneuvering Matt toward the front. I walked over to where my dad and Mara
were talking to Co
Mrs. Pearson extended her hand. "Hello, Lucy," she said. "It's so nice to finally meet you."
"It's nice to finally meet you, too," I said. They say nobody knows a guy like his mom, so I was tempted to ask Mrs. Pearson if she thought it was a little odd that Co
cocktail party trying to get Kathryn in a headlock. But before I could put the question to her,
Jessica came over to me. "It's showtime," she said.
"Oh, right," I said. I turned to my dad and Mara. "Well, I guess I should get going."
My dad gave me a hug. "You look gorgeous."
"Thanks," I said. "And thanks again for the painting." I looked over his shoulder at Mara. "And 270
thanks for the easel," I said to her. "It's really beautiful."
"I'm glad you like it," she said.
"Here, let me get a picture," said Mr. Pearson. He came over to me and my dad and placed us
next to each other, putting my dad's hand on my shoulder and wrapping my arm around my dad's
waist. Mara was standing a few feet away, and I could tell from the way she was watching us
that she really wanted to be in the picture. I kept expecting my dad to call her over, but he didn't;